


Safe At Last

by Urbenmyth



Series: Tales Beyond The Archives [9]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Helen's domain, Making my OCD into a statement, OCD, Posting it quickly before Jonny makes it non-canon, Season 5 Spoilers, hell yeah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:33:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27048766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Urbenmyth/pseuds/Urbenmyth
Summary: When the world is too much? When reality is overwhelming?Don't worry.The Spiral is waiting.
Series: Tales Beyond The Archives [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1965088
Kudos: 17





	Safe At Last

You wake up.

You’ve had some terrible dreams lately. You dreamt you were trapped under the dirt for so long, crawling through the tunnels like a worm, struggling and thrashing. But it didn’t happen.

It was just a nightmare. You know that now.

You look out the window and the grass is green and the sky is blue, and if the clouds seem to form the image of an eye, well, clouds make shapes sometimes. You are safe. Nothing happened. It was just a nightmare.

A woman smiles at you when you get up.

The woman introduces herself as Helen. She laughs like it’s an inside joke.

She sells houses, she says. She laughs like it’s an inside joke.

Her laugh seems...you’ve just got up. You had a nasty nightmare. You’re just out of it. Her laugh is normal. Her hands are normal. You’re safe.

She holds the door open for you as you get up. She laughs like that’s a joke, too.

This house is yours, she says. You don’t remember signing but it’s a nice house and the rent’s cheap so you don’t correct her. A lucky break at last. She leads you around, shows you the yellow doors and green walls. She introduces you to the other tenants.

You talk to Steven, who dreamt he was dragged along a stage by giant spiders with long hooks.   
You talk to Bianca, who dreamt she watched her children die in an endlessly burning apartment.   
You talk to little Sven, who dreamt he was chased by a woman with sharp teeth through a dark house.

A lot of people have been having nightmares lately, it seems.

But that’s all they were, nightmares.

Helen smiles, and asks if you have any questions.

Outside, you think you see dirt splatter against the door.

It’s nothing. Just a nightmare. You just need to check the door. Need to check it.

You check it four times, then 8, then 16. The dirt goes away.

You go to sit down, but Helen looks at the chair apologetically. Is that dirt, she says? It looks like it. Sorry, she thought she’d cleaned it properly. But you’re not listening. Is the nightmare coming back? Of course not. It can’t “come back”. It’s just a nightmare. It was never here to begin with. But...is it?

You clean the chair, and then you clean the chair, and then you clean the chair. And then you look at the chair and there’s still dirt. You clean it for 20 minutes but you take too long, and you start again. And you start again. And you start again. And there’s still dirt. And you start again.

To your right, you see Steven. He’s washing his hands. He keeps washing them. The spiders might still be there, Helen mused. Might still have their hooks in there. Needs to clean for exactly two minutes. 1:59 and he needs to start again, 2:01 and he needs to start again. Needs to. Needs to check every inch of skin in a mirror for where a hook might still be lingering, where the spider might be waiting to pull him back. It’s just a nightmare, he knows it’s just a nightmare the theater wasn’t real, the spider wasn’t real, he knows that. But he needs to check.

You see Bianca at the oven. She taps the knobs, like Helen suggested. She knows they’re off, she knows they won’t rise in a burst of flame and laughing wax faces. But...check them. And check them. And check them. And check them. It’s been so long, her food is cold. The stove is cold. The room is cold. And the burning flat was just a nightmare. And the uncaring landlord with his molten face was just a nightmare. And the house is cold. But she just needs to check one more time.

And Sven flicks the light switch, over and over again. Over and over. Three times, then check the darkness, then three times, then check the darkness, then three times, then check the darkness. That’s what Helen said would help. There won’t be a sharp-toothed woman there, lurking in the darkness. There won’t be a cruel boy with black eyes. There won’t be any of that. The light will switch back on. That was just a nightmare. There’s nothing there. But he needs to check. Three. Check. Three. Check. Three.

And behind it all, Helen grins broader and broader, and when you look at her, you know the dirt is coming. You see your limbs press into your torso, and your body crumple, and thick mud fill your mouth and lungs and it’s just in your head it’s not happening but you can feel it in your head and in the room and in her long, thin hands that point to the window

You look out the window and you worry if the dirt is crushing in, just outside. You can’t see it, it’s just blue skies and green grass but what if it’s there? It could be. It isn’t. It could be. You need to check.

You open and close the window. 4 then 8 then 16. You check the door. 4 then 8 then 16. Did you check the other doors? Is the dirt getting in there?

You run. It’s just a nightmare. There’s no threat. But check the front to be sure and then the back then each door to each room then the shed then the garage and the dirt is getting in and check and check and 4 then 8 then 16 then 32 then 64 then 128 then

Your hands are hurting and your hands are bleeding and Steven is bleeding from the little wounds he made to find hooks and Bianca’s dinner has rotted while she taps that counter and Sven sobs as the light starts to dim from overuse but he still keeps flicking and you can hear fluting glitching laughter in your head and it's just a nightmare and the theater and the street and the apartment and the dirt aren’t real they’re all in your head they’re just thoughts and they’re just imagination and they’re just coming through the door you forgot to check they’re coming through it right now and you’ll be back in the dirt forever.

1024 then 2048 then 4097 and wait is that right? You can’t think. The dirt is coming, pressing down around you, waiting for a chance, start again, it has to be right, it’s just a nightmare, it’s not real, it won’t happen, you have to stop it.

Steven is swaying from blood loss and Bianca’s fingertips are showing the bone and Sven has screamed himself voiceless flicking a switch to a long-dead bulb in a pitch-black room and that tall, thin thing you thought was a woman is looking at all of it with such deep, crushing eyes and her laughter fills your head and you want to stop her but you need to check again and you want to help them but you need to check again and you want to run but you can feel the dirt pressing down and you can see it filling your lungs and you need to check again

You just need to check the door again. That’s all.

Just to make sure

4

8

16

It’s just a nightmare

32

You’re safe.

64

It was all a nightmare. It won’t happen. It can’t hurt you.

128

You just need to make sure

256.


End file.
